So here I am...

My days are framed with tears. I cry when I get up, and I cry when I go to bed. It's because that's thinking time. When I am busy I am coping. Just. Maybe I will cry when I write this. It was my therapists idea. Keep a journal, he said. I started with pen and paper, but I thought I'd set up an incognito blog, because it's easier for me to look back and access, but also others like me might stumble across it and find something relevant. Heaven only knows, that I have searched all over the internet for support.

As you will have guessed by now, I expect, I recently came out. It was quite a big deal. I mean REALLY big, because although I know in my heart of hearts that I have been gay since I was 12 years old, I only came out in January, aged 50.

Why now? perhaps I'll cover that in other posts. The real significance here is that I appear to the world as a happy straight guy, married with a son, living the dream.

OK, so that's NOT TRUE. Every day... EVERY SINGLE DAY... has been a struggle. I married because I fell in love. I thought marriage would work. I wanted the happy ending. I wanted the fairy tale. I wanted the happy family. I got them all. But I was still gay.

Before telling my wife in January, I had never even kissed a man, let alone had sex. I kept myself committed to this relationship for over 20 years. Before I met my wife, there had been no relationships with anyone of either sex. I was almost 30 before I had sex for the first time - and that was with my wife. She was the only person I'd ever been with.

As I write this I am torn and unhappy. I have contemplated suicide so often the thought seems almost like an old friend. I have told only my wife and a handful of other people that I am gay. And I don't know what I should do next.

Can I really leave my wife and son? He is almost grown up now. But even so, can I put my happiness ahead of theirs? I don't know if I can. I feel ambivalent about the gay word. I can't quite make it fit me. Yet I know it is who I am. I don't recognise myself when I look in a mirror. Although that may be the bulimia - I've lost a stone in weight.

I met some other "Gay Dads" recently, hoping to make sense of it all. I told them, I felt I was falling back into the closet, the door slowly closing on me.

And one of them smiled and said:

"You should get OUT more".